Beware the Fury of a Quiet Man
by Citizenjess
Summary: Anakin never does anything quietly. Written for alphabetasoup's K for Kaboom challenge.


Written for alphabetasoup's K-is-for-'kaboom' challenge. My subject matter is Anakin-gen (though I might occasionally throw in bits and pieces of, say, Obi-Wan/Anakin when it's applicable BECAUSE I CAN DO THAT GOSH DARNIT!), so when completed, I should have 26 separate, neat, 500-word (or more) 'fics about Anakin. Yes.

Summary: Anakin never does anything quietly. Rated PG.

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**Beware the Fury of a Quiet Man**

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1.

Anakin is four the first time he sees a pod race. He's at the market with his mother and accidentally gets swept up in a crowd of onlookers who are steadily trudging towards the stands to witness this year's Boonta Eve Classic. He can feel his mother's frantic energy even through the hustle-and-bustle, and smiles apologetically as she finally squeezes her way through the glut and clutches tightly at his chubby hand. The kiss she presses to his cheek tells him that she isn't angry, and when he shyly asks if they can stay and watch, she sighs and agrees.

It's not just the flashy ships and colorful contestants that capture his attention. It's the noise, the smells, the gusts of air from the engine blowing up into his eyes and nostrils, full of fuel and dirt and the unforgiving heat of Tatooine's two suns. But it's the noise that keeps his interest, the loud revving of the engines, taunting one another, growling deeply like great mechanical beasts. The ships are like organic creatures in that sense, and Anakin is eager to build his own someday so he can make them cater to his whims.

He can tell that Shmi is uncomfortable being jostled by the crowd, but Anakin loves it. He can feel the excitement welling in his chest as onlookers roar and hiss their approval or loathing for the various contestants, and when the winner crosses the finish line, he throws his hands up in the air and hoots and whistles right along with them. His mother smiles down at him and shakes her head, both chiding and loving, and when she tucks him into bed that night, he stays awake and watches the fireworks display outside of his window, listening to the faint sounds of celebration. He vows that one day, the cheers and hollers will be for him.

2.

Anakin's noise bothers Obi-Wan. He wonders sometimes whether, if his Master had actually been able to choose his own apprentice, rather than having Qui-Gon's burden shifted onto his shoulders, they would be half as inquisitive as he is. He doubts it, but respect for Obi-Wan curbs his usually wayward tongue.

Anakin asks questions that he can tell his Master doesn't like to answer, and talks when he knows he probably shouldn't. He's hardly the obedient, perfect Padawan that he's sure his Master secretly wishes he were, but he can tell Obi-Wan is impressed by his natural talents in other areas the way everybody else is.

He also thinks that sometimes, his Master isn't quite sure how to deal with his brilliant personality. He knows Obi-Wan does his best, and that he probably knows Anakin right now better than anyone, but occasionally, when he chuckles that Anakin isn't ready or doesn't know what he's saying or flat-out refuses to indulge him in his latest argument altogether, Anakin silently decides it's because he's simply surpassed that aspect of his Master in his training, and Obi-Wan doesn't want to admit it.

3.

Even Anakin's mind is not a quiet place.

Anakin decides that the best thing about wielding a lightsaber is the whooshing sound it makes when it finds its target. He confides this to Palpatine, knowing that Obi-Wan will just give him that concerned, confused, I am disappointed in you look that he hates more and more the older he gets.

Palpatine never criticizes him. His presence becomes much like that of a Holy Man's, with Anakin confessing his various sins and Palpatine laying a hand on his head or shoulder and absolving him of guilt with words laced profoundly with un-Jedi-like endearments about the nature of the universe and emotions he's not supposed to even acknowledge that he feels.

Palpatine has a quiet grace that Anakin admires. Few people are as bold as he is, of course, but whereas Obi-Wan exudes a constantly fretful energy, nervous for the young, now-braidless man he technically has nothing more to teach to, Palpatine is confident in all things. His silence is calming, soothing, and Anakin finds himself envious of how assured he is.

Moreover, the Chancellor does not seem to fear Anakin's noise like everybody else does; even Padme, whom he's pretty sure he loves more than anyone in the universe, is scared of how quickly his emotions can flit from sheer happiness to utter rage and back again. He can see it in her eyes: I love you, Anakin, their deep, brown depths say (quietly). But you make me afraid sometimes.

It's when Anakin begins to enjoy that fear that he knows he isn't a Jedi anymore.

4.

Darth Vader is never quiet. He does not like to think on his past often, but occasionally struck with small glimpses of memories long repressed, he remembers what it was like to enter a room and not have everyone hear him coming down the hall. He loathes his assisted breathing mechanism more than the fact that his torso occasionally spasms in intense pain that he can never tell anyone about. He even thinks he hates it more than the fact that everybody he's ever loved has abandoned him.

He has the fear of an entire galaxy, now; the awe; the respect. He has a whole Empire at his knees with the wave of one gloved hand if he so wishes it (and he does), endless riches, unlimited power.

He is a man of few words, now. He doesn't need them, he finds; they're a strain on what little remains of his vocal chords, a non-necessity for one who does not need to make his wishes known. Whatever he wants to happen will anyways; he knows this as surely as he knows that he will kill his Master someday. He's not even sure why he holds off the inevitable; perhaps it's that Palpatine is his one remaining link to his past, and though he denounced all of that the first time he fell to his knees and proclaimed his allegiance to the Dark Side, he can't completely let it go.

The first time he chokes somebody to death, he can't believe the rush. Wrapping his fingers around the slender throat, pressing until he feels the crush of the windpipe through the Force, he feels real power. It thrills him like nothing has in years, almost as much as his life did before he lost himself. He doesn't have hopes and dreams anymore, but as he watches his victim's eyes roll back in their head and lets the body drop dismissively to the floor of the Death Star with a heavy thud, he tells himself that this is almost almost better.

Darth Vader has finally learned to appreciate the sound of silence.


End file.
